


Bring Colorto My Life

by grayskiesatdawn



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Complete, F/M, Mystery, Non canon pairing, Romance, Suspense, oddball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayskiesatdawn/pseuds/grayskiesatdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young woman, living in an apartment, has never seen her downstairs neighbor. She has a rather inventive imagination and has some wild theories about what he, or possible she, is/does. Until one night, she sees her neighbor for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I even borrowed the style.

I often wondered about the man living downstairs in the apartment below mine. I never saw him. I heard him, more often than not. I would hear the TV or the clothes dryer and some times the shower, running at odd hours, when my own life was still and quiet. I never heard his voice.

He never opened the windows to let air inside. The blinds never moved, never allowing the sunlight to fill a room. He had a car, parked in the space next to mine, which rarely moved. Maybe it didn't move, but some mornings I could swear it was parked a little closer or farther away within the space beside my car. I wondered what his story was. Perhaps he had a serious medical condition, one that made sunlight and fresh air unbearable. Or maybe it was a phobia, the kind that sends you reeling at the very thought of being outside in the uncontrollable, unsafe world. He could have several types of phobias in fact. Anthropophobia, heliophobia, photophobia or vestiphobia, it could have been any number of things keeping him inside. Was he in the Witness Protection Program? Or was he a hacker, working for a secret criminal operation? I didn't even know if he was young or old; I didn't even know if he was in fact a he. There had to be a story.

Perhaps I was wrong and there was no story to tell. I had been imagining the best and worst of things, and maybe there wasn't anything at all, just nothing. That thought made me sad. Everybody had a story to tell, didn't they? Surely there was something motivating this person to live, compelled him to move forward and not just cease?

I went for days at a time not thinking about the man living downstairs, taking the noises below me for granted. Sometimes, when my life was peaceful and restive, I let my mind wander to more imaginative ventures. I made up his story. Today, he was trapped by a devastating illness, searching for a cure. Tomorrow, he might be a hit man, hiding from the law. Then my mind would always strike against a disturbing idea. What if he died? Would anybody know or care? I liked to think I would, even though he was a stranger to me. I would listen in the quiet of the evening for those small sounds, signs he was still there.

And then one evening, just as dusk was fading into night, I heard a voice. His voice, I was sure. It wasn't clear, but it was loud enough to startle me. I set my mug of tea down, followed by my book, and listened. I didn't breath. I heard footsteps, soft but distinct, heading toward the door. I sped stealthily to my front window, hiding myself in the gossamer curtains to see this mystery man. I waited.

I had only lived in my apartment for six months. It was quite possible the things I imagined about him were very erroneous. Perhaps it really was a lengthy illness keeping him indoors.

I heard the door open and shut. I trained my eyes on the black car beside mine, ducking low against the window sill. I saw him, but not clearly. He was tall and wore dark clothes. His shoulders were broad and straight. He wasn't stooped or bent; he wasn't old. His hair was light colored. The light was too dim to tell the exact shade.

Before he opened his car door, he stopped and looked up, in the direction of my window. Involuntarily, I shrunk lower and pressed back against the sheer curtain, hoping my dark hair wasn't visible against its pale color. I held my breath again and waited. When I heard the car door shut, I ventured another quick glance. The reflection of the nearby lamppost on the windshield made it difficult to see his face. I could not describe the features. It was a very pale face, but that fact was not shocking. His gaze, I'm sure, was still cast in my direction. I ducked below the window sill, out of sight, and I heard his car start. I waited for several pounding heartbeats and looked again. The car was gone.

That night when I slept, I dreamed of him, exactly as I saw him hours before, standing beside his car looking in my direction. I tried to forget but found it impossible. I wanted to see him clearly. I wanted to know his story.

The next morning, my car keys in hand as I stepped outside my door, I saw a paper tucked under the windshield wipers of my car. I pulled it out and read it. 

_I saw you last night._

_(*)_

It haunted me all day at work. Several times, I made a fist to rumple the paper and found I could not. I stared at it again and again. The writing seemed old fashioned, all loops and flourishes. The texture of the paper felt expensive, not cheap copier paper nor from a corner of an old envelope.

I savored those five words. My rational mind knew I should be afraid of this man. I didn't know him and he didn't know me. He could be a serial killer looking for his next victim or a crazed stalker, for all I knew. I should be afraid and I wasn't. I was curious and compelled. I wanted more and it emboldened me.

Searching through my desk, I found some old stationary and tore the letterhead off. The yellowing sheet sat before my wavering hand, mocking me. What should I say to this stranger whom might be anything or nothing? Should I say something witty or should I call him out for being weird? I settled for a simple acknowledgment.

_I saw you too._

The note sat next to me on the passenger seat. I didn't do things like this. I didn't do reckless and crazy. I didn't talk to complete strangers. I was never forward. I liked the way I was before this stranger's note. I didn't want to change. But maybe, maybe it was time for a change.

I pulled my car into its space, the black car beside it. I got out and pondered its windshield for a long moment. The note weighed a thousand pounds in my hand. I should forget everything I knew and didn't know about this man. I should turn my back and lock my doors and windows, stay in for a couple of days. I should get a guard dog. I folded the slip of paper and tucked it beneath the wiper blade. It was done and it thrilled me. Excitement pulsed through me like an electric current. I never felt more alive. I went inside and tried to go about my normal routine, but nothing was normal anymore. Normal and routine were done with and I didn't care. I loved this new thrill, the thrill of the unknown possibilities.

I waited, listening for those small sounds. I barely moved, fearing my own sounds would drown out his. My wait was rewarded a few minutes after sunset. I heard the trill of a phone and his voice. Like I had done the previous night, I crept to my window, eyes barely above the sill, waiting. I heard his door open and shut, saw his tall figure move toward his car. He stopped, like last night, and gazed at my window. I didn't move, didn't even breathe. He turned away a few moments later and removed my insignificant scrap of paper. I wished I had written something wittier, more intelligent than my simple acknowledgment. He smiled and tucked the paper in a pocket. I sat back from the window, body thumping harshly to the close floor. 

I was stunned. He smiled at my note, _my_ stupid, silly, little note. It wasn't even that he smiled at it, but how he smiled. It was a genuine smile, a touching thing, really. His smile wasn't creepy like I half suspected it would be; it was nice, pleasant, and totally fitting. I sat on my floor for a few minutes, just amazed at the power of simple words on an unattractive piece of paper, written in a hurried hand. I made that power.

Eventually, I attempted to return to my normal nightly routine. It proved to be, as I suspected earlier, out of reach. Normal was long gone and wouldn't be returning any time soon. I didn't want it to either. I was officially done with routine.

I dreamed of him again, when I finally succumbed to sleep. The dream progressed in much the same way as the night before. Only this time, I saw him smile. Each time it seemed his smile grew brighter and broader. I wished I could see the rest of his face more clearly. I always wanted more than I was given.

The next morning, I was excited to start a new day. This rarely happened before. It wasn't that I dreaded going to work or beginning again; I just never really cared one way or another. Days just happened, good or bad. I let them happen, offering only an opinion or two and never a complaint. Today, it felt as if I was waking from a trance. It felt wonderful.

Again there was a note waiting for me. I saw it the moment the door closed behind me. The stark white was noticeable against the blue of the sky reflected in glass, a cloud resting on my windshield. I slipped it from underneath the wiper blade.

_You want to know more._

Five words again. Five words of truth. I did want to know more. He didn't specify what _more_ was, but I was certain I wanted to know _whatever_ it was. This time, I didn't take so long to ponder over my response. In fact, I had to reign in my inner impulse; I needed to play it cool. I didn't want to seem too eager to jump into what might be certain doom.

Tearing a strip of paper form the same sheet I had used yesterday, I made my response. Looking down at what I wrote, the words in blue ink were alive, so vivid and sure. 

_Maybe._

I felt different. The office I worked in seemed different as well. Looking around, nothing had changed. It was as it had always been, a cramped office with outdated cubicles, dusty plants and stuffy people. Did I really work here? With my renewed sense of life, I found it hard to believe I worked in someplace so devoid of color and vibrancy. I saw a beige wall and I wanted to paint it yellow or blue or orange.

Returning home was so much different than yesterday. I didn't second guess myself when I left the note. I felt bold and oddly satisfied. I waited and listened, but not as breathlessly as I had the evening before. I heard him leave, earlier today, half an hour before the cloud-obscured sun went down. I stood between the parted curtains, in full view, waiting.

He saw me. He looked at me a long while before picking up my note. He smiled like he had in my dreams, broad and brightly. It was beautiful. His pale face was touched with muted rose of a cloudy sunset, illuminating his classical cut features. He was as fine as a statue come to life. He nodded to me, got in his car and left.

That night, when I dreamed of him, he reached out to me. And I reached out to him. I felt like I was glowing from the inside. I was a spark growing into flame.

In the morning, there was no note. There was a rose. An interesting rose, white tinged with red at the petal edges, rested on my windshield. I traced the red edges with my fingertips.

The note I left this evening was very simple. No words at all, just a symbol.

_?_

 


	2. II

Nothing awaited me the next morning. There was no note, no white rose tinted with red. Disappointment stung me but not as hard as another realization. What kind of life was I leading when I was crushed by a stranger not noticing me?

I tried to put this disappointment behind me, but it was never far from me throughout the day. Questions kept bubbling up in my mind, spilling over incessantly into my thoughts at any given moment. I put on a brave face and refocused my thoughts, making it through the day by something short of a miracle.

When I returned to my humble apartment, I paused on the sidewalk, appraising the covered windows of my mystery man's home. What had I done? Was I too forward? I frowned and walked aimlessly up the steps. I slipped my key into the lock with a sigh. I should just forget this ever happened. I was a grown woman and I shouldn't be playing games with a stranger.

Resigned, I didn't listen for the sounds below me, didn't peer through the curtains at dusk, didn't perceive any movement from his car. I would forget. Should he disappear, it was not my concern. Someone else would care, but not me. I occupied myself with other things to drive the lingering curiosity from my brain, which I was very successful with until the car beside mine vanished a few days later. The curiosities swirled in like a heavy fog, filling every thought with its damp, creeping tendrils.

The black car was gone for two weeks. The first week, I took to my typical, imaginative speculations. The second week, I was more proactive, moving beyond speculation to actual fact finding.

Rent was due, and rather than paying through the bill pay service, I took my check directly to the manager's office. I usually didn't pay this way, nor had I since I first moved in, opting out of the monthly hassle of showing up during office hours. This time though, I had reasons for the interaction.

Entering the office, the secretary looked up at me from filing her nails. She smiled at me weakly as she took the check from my hands, stamped it, and filed it away in a locked drawer.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” She cast me a suspicious glance from under her thickly mascaraed lashes when I didn't leave immediately.

“Yes, actually there is. I was just wondering about a neighbor, the man who lives in 418, downstairs from me.”

“What about him?” She picked up her nail file again.

“Do you ever see him?”

Now she looked me full in the eye. “No, I never have. His rent is paid by his employer. He's never requested maintenance. Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem. I wondered if he had listed his next of kin.”

The nail file plunked against the desk. “I don't see how any of that is your business. Look, if there's an issue, just say so.” The 'otherwise, just get the hell out', was implied by her barely concealed eye roll.

I turned on my heel and left before I could bother her with anymore questions. But the one fact the crabby secretary had given me fed my imagination for the rest of the week. Obviously, he worked for a financially sound company. There was always the possibility his prolonged absence indicated he had relocated at his company's request. My heart faltered. He might not come back.

The following morning his car was once again parked beside mine. My footing slipped slightly on the steps. He wasn't gone after all. I looked expectantly at the windshield of my car. There was nothing there, only the dim gray of a cloudy morning reflected back. I swallowed my disappointment. I was getting very good at that, pretending everything was fine. Lingering for a moment, I looked at his windows and I swore I saw a slat from the vertical blinds swing back in place. I slipped into my car, trying not to dwell on the miniscule movement.

Several days passed, his car didn't leave and there were no more notes and no more flowers. However, each morning when I left for work, I could swear he watched me leave. I didn't know what sort of game he was playing with me, and eventually, I got angry. I admonished myself for even caring what a total stranger thought of me.

Finally, a blast of anger gripped me at work. I tore a piece of paper from a notepad. If he was into playing games with me, then I was playing right back.

_Are you a hit man?_

I put my note on his windshield. I waited for any sound he made that night and none came. I went to bed figuring whatever was going on between us was done. I still dreamed of him, like I had nearly a month earlier. His features had become much more indistinct, his smile faded. I hated him for disturbing my placid life.

Leaving for work the next morning, I squashed the little annoying bubble of hope forming in my heart. If I didn't expect anything, then my fall into disappointment wouldn't be as crushing. I pulled my heavy cardigan around my waist tighter and stepped outside the door. At first, I was momentarily blinded by the sunlight shimmering off of the frost. I noticed several things as my eyes adjusted. The windshield of my car was freshly scraped clear of frost, and tucked under the wiper was a piece of paper curled delicately around the stem of a white and red rose. I pulled the rose from its confine and read the note.

_Not exactly._

I stood staring at the paper for a few moments before tucking it away in my pocket. As I got into my car, I saw his blinds move. He had been watching me ever since he returned. It looked as though the only way I'd ever get to know this stranger was through a question asked on a slip of paper. Somehow this seemed the most perfect way to get to know him. I don't think I'd choose any other way.

And so that night I asked another question and in the morning an answer waited, along with a white rose stained with red. By the end of several weeks, I had a vase full of roses, in various stages of bloom, sitting on my desk. My co-workers would look at the roses with a mild curiosity, but no one ever asked whom the roses were from. I wasn't even sure how I'd answer them if they asked. Telling them the roses were from a complete stranger was either the most romantic thing or the scariest thing they would ever hear. For me, to say he was a stranger was a lie. I did know some things about him. He wasn't a complete mystery.

I knew, for instance, he was not afraid of sunlight, but preferred the dark. He liked the company of other people, though many people felt uncomfortable around him. My neighbor suffered from a sort of insomnia and he was a voracious reader. He had several types of jobs and no, he wasn't a James Bond-type of spy. When he told me he liked solace for the most part, but was often lonely, my heart broke a little.

At the end of the month, when the first flurries of snow swept across my office window, a bouquet of rose arrived. I took the ruby vase from the delivery person and sat them beside the other vase on my desk. Pulling the snow-dotted plastic wrapping from the arrangement, revealed a group of creamy white roses. In the center, one deep red rose stood out sharply from the rest. Beside the red rose was a note, anchored by a plastic trident. Before I even plucked it from the holder, I knew it was from him.

_Knock._

And I would.


	3. Chapter 3

I stood shivering on his doorstep. Did I really want to do this? I should be scared to death, but I wasn't. Curiosity and intrigue burned within me. I knocked at the door.

When he answered and I looked him in the face, some unidentifiable emotion flowered, a rose unfurling into a full bloom. My eyes were drawn instantly to his. They shone with hints of amber and citrine, a most unusual shade. His features were as I remembered, only sharper, more vivid now. I was wrong to call him a statue come to life. Varied feelings and emotions touched the perfection of his face. No artist could ever hope to capture such minuscule details in cold marble or granite.

“Come in.” He stepped aside to let me pass. I should have stepped into an apartment identical to mine. The room in front of me was so vastly different to my bland space, I might have stepped into another world. The walls and furnishings were hued with rich jewel tones and warm earth tones. Massive bookshelves lined the longest wall. The dark structures were laden with books, some new and some, I could tell, were very old. It was warmth and comfort manifest.

Any uncertainty, any doubts I held, evaporated. I was safe here. He was not dangerous; he would never harm me. I had the odd sense I found a home. It was strange. A home in the rented space of a stranger.

The door shut softly behind me and I turned to face him. “How long have you lived here?”

“A year and a half.”

I turned back to the room, disbelieving. This room belonged in an ancient castle or an old manor house, not an apartment in the suburbs.

“You don't believe me.” His perfect voice held light tones of mirth.

“Not exactly,” I faced him again, my eyes catching his steady gaze. “But I will.”

“Please sit down.” He gestured toward two comfortable-looking, oversized leather chairs gathered around an elegant coffee table in the center of the room. We sat down and though he wasn't seated directly across from me, I could feel the weight of his gaze appraising me. Had anyone else scrutinized me to this extent, I'd wilt into awkwardness and retreat within myself. I felt my resolve slip, but a steady voice in my mind whispered that it was well worth it to lift my down-cast glance and meet his eyes again.

“So what exactly do you do?” My own boldness startled me.

He shifted in the chair slightly, looking away from me. His answer wasn't immediate, but when it came, it was thoughtful, patient. “I can't go into details, but let's just say I work for a large international firm and have for many years. They've done a lot for me, provided me with a purpose, a home, among other things.”

When he looked at me, I saw what the words meant to hide. “I take it you don't particularly care for your current profession?”

“No. But it passes time. And it gives me time to explore the world, at their expense.”

I laughed lightly. “You don't seem like the kind of man who would dip his hands in the company coffer.”

“Oh, they are well aware of what I'm doing. They doubt I'll be successful.” He smiled faintly.

“Successful in what?”

“I've been looking for something.”

“What?”

He shook his head slowly. “I'm not sure, but I'll know when I find it.”

“It sounds like a tedious task. Have you been looking long?”

“Ever since I started working for this company. It's far from tedious, my search. When I find what I’ve been searching for, it will be the most important event in my entire life.”

“One object can grant all of that?” The intensity of his melodic voice struck me, shook my soul. I was taken aback.

“Yes.”

“Are you getting closer to finding what you seek?”

“Yes.” The spark lighting his eyes made me gasp. It glinted there like cognac in a crystal glass, swirled slowly by a fire.

I stood suddenly, unsure of everything around me, especially the new emotion blooming within me. “I should go.”

He made no move to show me out, so I started for the door. I was in a dream-like state, numb and foggy. When I gripped the doorknob firmly in my hand, a realization slid into place. “Is it me? Am I what you're looking for?”

I barely heard his soft reply before I exited. “Yes.”

I didn't sleep that night. How could I matter so much to someone? He didn't know me. He would be sorely disappointed finding out I was not this miraculous object he'd been searching for, for God knows how long. I wasn't special. I couldn't change someone's life.

There was enough money in my savings; I could terminate my lease and have enough for a deposit somewhere else, somewhere new. Deep down, I knew I could run away from him, but he had the means to find me no matter where I went. Part of me didn't want to run and that scared me. Why was I so unafraid, and so inexplicably drawn to him? It went against reason, logic and probably half a dozen scientific and mathematical laws, not to mention quite a few moral ones as well. Could it be I was attracted to him?

I managed to stuff down my turmoil and cover the evidence of my sleeplessness with make-up before I left for work. My whole world was thrown into chaos, yet I soldiered on bravely, never showing how deeply scared and excited I was.

His car was gone. The glaring, empty space wounded me. If I was what he had searched for, then why was he gone? I blinked back the irrational tears forming. The hopeful part of me whispered his leaving was for me. The hurt side of me raged about his game being finished. He had toyed with me and left. There was no middle ground in this battle.

The hum of the office lulled me into blissful numbness. My fingers clicked away the bits of information important to someone other than me. A few days of this and I might just forget the past months ever happened. A conversation a few cubicles down, drew me out of my mind's fog.

“Yeah, she's the last cubicle on the right. Got flowers the other day.”

Curious, I peeked around the beige corner. A man was carrying a familiar shape, wrapped in cellophane. He was heading in my direction. I silently hoped he'd keep on moving passed the last cubicle on the right. Of course he didn't, and I pretended to be absorbed by the file on my screen.

A throat cleared behind me. “Hey, Miss? These are for you.”

I spun my chair around, wide eyed, to face him. I balked and feigned confusion. “Really?”

“You going to take them or not?” He held the swathed arrangement closer.

I should have refused them but my will was weak. Taking the vase in my hands, I thanked the man meekly.

He shrugged off my thanks and left. The vase was chilly resting there in my hands, freezing my movement. I stared quietly at the plastic protecting the flowers underneath. The silent war of emotions stilled and my heart rose to my throat.

I settled the vase carefully on my desk and pulled the wrapping off. My eyes met the beautiful hues of orange flowers. Lilies, daisies, tulips and any other flower that came in a shade of orange were artfully placed in a crystal vase. There was a note, of course. I pulled it from the envelope bearing my name.

_Miss You._

My off-track world was set right again. He had left, but not because he was tired of his game. This wasn't a game to him; I felt certain. The handwriting wasn't his. It was too curvy and feminine, not his style at all. He must have arranged for the flowers over the phone.

My desk was overwhelmed with flowers. I brought a box with me, so I could pack them up before leaving work for the day. I was unable to go about my workday without comment or commotion. Nearly everyone in the office had stopped by my cubicle to comment on the flowers and ask who they were from. With each explanation my cheeks flushed with color. It was embarrassing but wonderful at the same time. I would have left the arrangements on my desk, but the whiny temp in the cubicle across from mine complained of the smell and how she was getting hives from all the pollen in the air.

As I packed up the flowers, I dropped the accompanying notes. Picking them up from the floor, I noticed the florist's name and address embossed on the back corner. The shop was just around the corner from my office. I wondered how much information I could get from the florist about my distant admirer. 

With the box of flowers stowed in my car, I rounded the corner to the quaint shop. It was late in the afternoon, so the shop was quiet. There was no one at the counter when I pushed the door open. The bell above the door announced my arrival and somewhere out of my sight, I heard rustling.

“Can I help you?” A sprightly voice called out at the same time a delicate-looking woman emerged from the depths of the shop.

“Could you tell me about the person sending me flowers? I've been getting some arrangements sent to my workplace and the note cards haven't been signed.”

“So _you're_ the girl?” The woman stood behind the counter, facing me. Her dark brown eyes danced in the filtered light.

“I suppose I am.” The familiar blush swept up my cheeks and I bit my lip hesitantly.

“Aww, sweetie. Nothing to be embarrassed about. So you don't know whose sending the flowers?”

“I've only met him once.” My gaze didn't meet hers.

“That's so romantic. I haven't met him myself. Mary might have, when he stopped in in person. He phoned in the order earlier this week. You don't know him then?” She stooped to retrieve something from under the counter.

“Not very well.”

She sat a ledger book down on the counter and flipped through its pages. “Ah, here we are.” She pointed at the entry, detailing each arrangement by color and day and what each note should read. “Sorry, he didn't give his name, just yours. Looks like he used a company card. What a funny name for a company. Have you ever heard of it before?”

I leaned in closer, examining the name. “Velathri Organization. No, I've never heard of the company before.” One more piece to his puzzle. It wasn't much to go on, but now that I had a name for the company he worked for, I might figure out his true occupation.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you for all of your help.”

“You're welcome, sweetie. Hope that man is as nice as he sounds on the phone. If you could tell looks by the sound of a voice, I'd say he was devastatingly handsome.”

“I believe he is.” I turned and left the shop.

Once I made my way home, I searched for Velathri Organization. Much of what I found was vague. It was a large company with many branches located throughout the world. They appeared very diverse, having involvement in architecture, finance, education and the arts. Nothing solved the puzzle completely.

Sighing, I gave up my quest for the night. I took one last look through the notes accompanying my flowers. _Miss you, Adore you, Need you, Soon._ Soon was a promise.

I turned out the light and dreamed. He appeared, ghostly pale, and the only color I saw was the color of his eyes and hair, shades of amber and ripe wheat. He reached out to touch me and when his hand clasped mine, his likeness shattered into thousands of glistening pieces. I was surrounded by shining diamonds hanging in the air and his voice echoed among them. Soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I'll tell you the novel style I'm trying to recreate with this story. I've always been fascinated by Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. I always found it had an interesting take on the 1st person POV. Now, my story doesn't even have half the mystery that story does. I just borrowed the narrative style.


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday morning, I slipped out for a brisk walk to my favorite coffee shop. The air stung my nose, sharp with the scent of snow. I'd make my walk quick today, although the allure of staying out as the snow fell was tempting. An icy gust of wind froze my indecision. I pulled my coat a little tighter around me to ward the chill away and hurried off. 

When I returned, clutching a lidded paper cup of hot chocolate, I saw his car had returned. I stopped and stared before resuming my pace. I knew even before I removed the slip of paper wedged between the door, my promised soon had arrived. The note was only a confirmation.

_See me tonight._

I was selective when choosing my clothing. I never really cared about what I wore. Of course, I favored clothes I looked good in and had appropriate clothing for work, unlike the whiny temp's micro-mini skirts and plunging necklines. I never really wore anything to attract and found my closet sadly lacking. I pulled out an outfit I normally wore at work around the holidays, a plain black skirt and a deep red sweater. My reflection screamed homely and there was nothing I could do. I was hopeless.

Nervous, I was very nervous. I had dressed long before I needed. I sat and watched the clock. I stood and watched the clock. Normally, I was very calm and now I found myself unsure of what to do with my hands, my feet. I couldn't find anything to occupy myself. Was it too early? Should I even dare to meet him again?

By the time I decided to leave, it was well after dusk and snow was softly falling. I pulled on a coat and scarf, even though I was heading next door. I took a deep breath when I stepped outside, filling my lungs with the clean fragrance of snow. It was silent outside. The hush of snow blanketed all other sounds, except for the beating of my heart. Exhaling heavily, I walked down the two steps from my door, around the wrought iron railing and up the two steps to stand in front of his door. My hand was shaking as I lifted it and knocked on his door.

He opened the door very quickly, like he had been waiting for me. I felt light-headed and I was ashamed to admit my heart stopped beating for a long second.

“Come in. I wasn't sure you'd come tonight.”

When he took my hand in his, the world stood still. I gasped at the rippling current traveling up my arm. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and the surging energy from our joined flesh stopped abruptly. The loss of it was unbearable. I needed to have it back, whatever it was. Before I left tonight, I would have him touch me again.

He stepped aside, allowing me in, and motioned me into his living room. He was careful not to touch me and I found myself irritated. I would do anything to feel that foreign electricity once more. 

I sat down stiffly in the same chair I occupied before and forced myself to look at him, really look at him. I looked beyond his beautiful eyes, beyond his impossibly perfect face. His blond hair was longer than I recalled, falling against his jawline and brushing his collar. His shoulders were broad and strong underneath his sweater. For the first time I noticed the slight inward curve of them, like he was carrying a burden far too heavy for him to bear alone. He sat in the other chair like a defeated Atlas, the weight of the world too much.

“I feel I owe you some explanation.”

“Me? Why?”

“I have put you in danger.”

“Why would you think that?”

“The company I work for has been paying closer attention to my activities than I first thought.”

“Velathri Organization.”

He smiled. “My clever little spy. Yes, they suspect I've found what I have been looking for.”

“How exactly is that dangerous for me?”

“You are what I've sought, what I've always hoped of finding. You are what completes my soul, makes me better than I have been.”

I felt my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “I don't see how that is bad?”

“And that's why I owe an explanation. Though Velathri has known of my search, they've never kept close tabs on me. You see, I am only bound to them until I find my mate, then I’m free. Now that I've found you, I can leave them and they aren't quite willing to let me go.”

“They can't keep you if you want to go, can they?”

“Yes, they can. If I leave, they will kill me. That's why I haven't left before, even though I've never cared for my job. There was a time, long ago, when I would have sought death's embrace. Not now.”

“Are they the Mafia?” My voice crept up, bordering on being panicked.

“I suppose they are in a way, but they are something much more sinister. You probably know they have many business dealings worldwide. Those are legitimate businesses, but there's one function they serve, one you'd have no way of knowing about. They act as a sort of governing body, a judicial system if you will, for my kind.” He paused, looking into my eyes. I knew he saw fear there; I could see the faint glimmer of disappointment shining in his eyes because of the fear in mine.

“I'm not quite like these people, the ones who oversee,” he continued. “My lifestyle is very different from theirs. When I first met them, many years ago, I was a novelty to them. I spent some years in their company and then we parted ways. I traveled alone and took up an education. I became a doctor.” His eyes were distant now, recalling a happier time. “They found me again, much later, and my lifestyle was useful to them. I didn't want to be among their ranks. When the choice is between death and hope, I'll always choose hope. My job is to keep an eye out for the lawbreakers, bring them to justice. I hate my role in all of this more than I can say.”

My heart broke for him. I found myself kneeling before him, my hand inches from his face. My eyes were drawn to his. Peering into those warm depths, I knew I'd do anything he asked. I touched my hand to his smooth, cool cheek. There was something setting him apart from other men, a difference that should have me running away from him. It was the last thing I'd ever think of doing.

“Let me set you free,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his. He hesitated but returned my kiss, igniting fire from ice.

The moment was broken when he pulled away, leaning far back into the chair as if he couldn't get enough distance from me. “I can't. I can't let you do that.”

“Why not? If I am what you need, then take it. You're clearly suffering and I can help, so let me.”

“You don't know what it means to be with me. You'd have to give up so much and I'd be the one to take it from you.”

“What would I sacrifice for you?”

“Your life.” 

“Take it. Before you came into my life, I didn't have much of one. I let the days pass me by, let them happen without protest.”

“You don't understand. I used to heal people, now I send them to their death. I will not sentence you to this.”

“If you're free from them, you'd be a doctor again, right?”

“Yes.”

“What's one life, if you can save countless others?”

“It's your life, a life I treasure more than any other.”

“More than your own?”

“Yes.” He leaned forward, taking my hand in his. The electric thrill chased up my arm again. Those disarming eyes darkened slightly, somewhere between brown and black. He stared at me, as if he were willing me to understand something. “You accept what I say as fact. You haven't asked what sort of creature I am. Why is that?”

My fingertips grazed the underside of his wrist. This spot should have been warm and soft, thrumming with a pulse. His cool hands, I mistook their chilly feel for poor circulation but this was more. His wrist was as cool as his hands, even his lips, had been. Turning his hand over in mine, I sought out the delicate blue veins that should be visible underneath his pale skin. There were none. Where there should be soft spots on his palm and wrist, I found only unlikely firmness. His words echoed in my mind. _Mate, my kind, my lifestyle, creature._

“I accept what you say because it's the truth,” I said softly. “I know you aren't like most men. I suppose I knew from the very beginning.”

“No, I'm not like most men. I'm not even like most of my kind.” He brought his hand up under my chin, lifting my face to his. His now dark eyes were so full of love and compassion, I found it difficult to keep his gaze locked with mine. He could be an alien from a distant planet and it would not matter to me. I loved this stranger before me with my whole being, more than I ever thought possible.

He released his hand with a sigh. “I want to tell you more, so much more, but by doing so, I become the person I've been instructed to find. By telling you, I again put us both at risk. There is a way around it though.” He got up and went to a desk, pulling out something from a drawer. “You have to understand everything before you make a choice. You can't walk into this arrangement blindly. I won't let you. Come back tomorrow when you have decided.”

I stood and faced him. “What if I don't come back tomorrow?”

“I'll leave, but you still will be in danger. They will use you against me and I will sacrifice myself to save you.”

“Damned if I don't and damned if I do.”

“Yes and I am sorry, but you deserve to know, deserve to make your own choices where I had none.” He slipped whatever he had taken from the desk into my coat pocket. I'd forgotten I was still wearing it. “They'll be watching, but I'll be watching them too.” His lips brushed against mine, so softly the touch was no more than a breeze. He led me the short distance to his door. “Come back to me.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

I left his apartment in a state of shock. I had never felt such an intense love before. It was all so unbelievable and so real at the same time, a marvelous paradox. The weight of the item he had given me, burned in my pocket. Again with an unsteady hand, I unlocked my door and went inside. I made sure every door and window was locked. Something told me, whatever danger I was in, locks would not be enough to stop it.

Before I went to bed, I took the item from my coat. It was a slim leather journal. I paused before I opened it. I didn't have to know anything. I could still walk away. He could have been lying about them using me against him, lying about sacrificing himself. But he was telling the truth. He couldn't, wouldn't lie to me.

Opening the journal, I was met with his familiar handwriting, filling up the creamy paper. I ran my finger across the page, feeling the places where the nib of his pen scratched the paper. It made the events of tonight seem more real. The feel, the smell of the journal and ink, these things couldn't be contrived by my imagination.

_My name is Carlisle Cullen and I am a vampire. I've been a vampire since 1663, when I was a young man of twenty-three. I never chose this life. It was forced upon me by an unknown vampire. I was a victim of the war my father fought against the evil of my time. My father sought to destroy the night dwellers, some of whom had committed no wrong. Three hundred and fifty-five years later, I find myself still fighting my father's battles, still destroying innocents._

_The vampire who transformed me also abandoned me. I knew what I had become and I wished to die. I waited for a death that would not come to claim me. I refused to feed, denying my body what it craved. Eventually, I found I could feed on animals. Human blood had no bearing on me. I traveled through Europe and found myself in Volterra. My host in the city was a coven of vampires called the Volturi. You may know them as Velathri._

I stopped reading for a moment. The Velathri Organization, the Volturi, they were the ones after me, after him. I shuddered. 

_The Volturi found my lifestyle very odd, but brought me into their coven as a guest. I never had contact with others of my kind after my transformation. At first, I saw them as cultured, noble. They valued the same things I had when I was human; education, science and the arts. I saw my kind not as monsters, but as a gift to human kind. For some time, I enjoyed their company but I soon saw them for what they truly were, power hungry and manipulative. They had been kind to me and at the time, I bore them no ill will despite their decadent and deceptive way, so we parted ways amicably._

_I was a compulsive learner. I studied during my time in Volterra and spent my time when I arrived in the United States studying as well. I atoned for the sins committed by my kind, and became a doctor. I thought I'd find others like me, surviving from animals, but I took solace in my ability to live among humans._

_Eventually, the Volturi realized my odd way of living was an asset. Keeping vampires a secret was becoming much more difficult in the modern age. Rumors spread quickly and needed to be stopped. There were also those who were careless in their hunting habits, leaving witnesses behind. Since I blended in with humans so well, moving among them without notice, the Volturi chose me to keep tabs on those who brought suspicion on vampires. Hiding in plain sight, I suppose you'd call it._

_I've been part of the Velathri Organization since they pulled me out of a Chicago hospital in 1918. It was during the height of the Spanish Flu epidemic and my services were sorely needed. I could work for hours without fatigue and never get sick. Of course, I would take time to hunt to avoid revealing my true nature. I had just left the hospital to hunt, when two Volturi guardsmen came for me._

_They agreed I'd be free once I found a mate. They figured I'd never find mine since I didn't follow the traditional diet and I had been traveling for over two hundred years without finding my other half. For one hundred years, finding my mate has been my priority, the only thing keeping me sane._

_As a human, I condemned those accused of witchcraft to death, following the path my father had set for me. I had a vague sense, at the time, many were innocent of the claims brought against them. Centuries of hindsight have proven that sense correct. To wield so much power over another life, to value one life more than another, left a bitter taste. As a doctor I began to right my transgressions, but working as the Volturi watchdog has undone any good I achieved. I'm just herding the sheep to slaughter. I've had enough._

I felt his pain acutely. I could see his conflict. The Volturi had taken him in, shown him the way of this world he found himself a part of, and took advantage. He sought to bring good and they sought to keep control by any means necessary. 

_A mate for a vampire isn't like a mate for most creatures. For a vampire, a mate is like a magnet. Once a mate is found, the bond between them is hard to break. The bond consists of love, nurturing, protection, anything you might find in a close-knit human family, only magnified. This bond often contains a strong amount of physical love. A vampire is strong but with a mate, a vampire is even stronger. A mate is not a biological impulse since no offspring can be produced, it is more of mutual survival, making eternity more bearable. A mated pair forms the basis of a coven and covens of more than two are rare._

_The Volturi manage a coven so large by other means. They collect vampires with special abilities. Through these gifted vampires they manage an unparalleled amount of control over their coven members._

_There was a time when I thought perhaps I had found a mate. It was some years before the Volturi compelled me to work for them. The encounter was brief and she was too young to give up her life for an eternity. I sought to find her once again, after the Volturi claimed me, only to find I was too late. She had already married, had a child and died in the decade that lapsed between our meeting. I suppose that is why I'm laying all my cards on the table. I can't let love slip past me again._

_I hate asking so much of you, but I can find no other way. You don't have to do this. You don't have to give up your life and become like me. If you choose not to, I will always make sure you are safe. You are my mate and I will fight them._

_Now you know all of my sins and you can make your choice. I would give you more time to make this decision, but they already suspect me. I also cannot guarantee that after you have transformed, they will not pursue us. I don't know what the future holds for us, but there is hope. Hope will be enough._

I stared at the last page, letting his words sink into my soul. Whatever glimmer of hope we had, I knew it would be stronger with two. In the end, he was wrong. There was no choice for me. My heart was already set in motion, long before I even knocked on his door. I would do this for him. I would do it for me.

Tucking the journal under the pillow, I turned off the light and went to sleep. I was not expecting sleep to find me so quickly. I dreamed of all the things we would do together, things I'd never done, never dared to do before. My life, before him, was blank and empty. Now that he was here, my life had a color, a perspective, it never had before. Even if he couldn't offer me forever, he offered the one thing that made my life sparkle and shine. I never knew I was missing it until I found it. Love. 

He had changed me for the better. Entering into an existence that was neither death nor life, was a small price to pay. I knew if I walked away, I would never find this type of love ever again. The color he brought to my life would wane and descend back into beige if I left. I was a ghost before and he gave me substance. In return, I'd give him freedom. Love was not without some cost.


	6. Chapter 6

Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, spilling onto the bed and waking me. It was the first time in quite awhile that I woke up happy, truly happy, so much so it felt like my soul was singing. I sat for a few moments, still wrapped in the bedclothes and soaking in the faint warmth of the sun, pondering this foreign sensation. The fog of sleep drifted from my mind. I had something important to do today.

With that realization, I flung back the blanket and sheets and dashed into the bathroom for a shower. I rushed, taking little time in savoring the heat and the steam from the water. I didn't waste time drying my hair with the hair dryer and scrambled to get dressed, pulling on the first things my hands came across with little regard if they matched or not. He was waiting for me, probably had been waiting since I stepped out of his door last night.

I slipped on my coat and went down the steps, only to turn around and go back up them. I shouldn't have left his journal lying around. It confessed all his secrets and if there was a reason why he couldn't voice these words to me, then I highly doubted leaving his journal around for anyone to read was wise. I retrieved it from under the pillow and slipped it back into my coat pocket.

Once outside, I shielded my eyes from the glare of the sun reflecting off the new snow. There was just enough snow to cover the withered grass, making the world soft and shimmery. But my mind was not on the snow at the moment; it was just scenery passing by, flickering in the background.

There was no hesitation or shaking this time as I knocked at his door. My knuckles barely made contact with the steel door before it swung open. I noticed for a brief second the way his skin shone like the sunlight off the snow outside, thought it interesting, and flung myself into his waiting arms.

“You came back.”

“Of course. You were wrong, you know. I didn't have a choice to make. My heart chose you long before I knew you. I've never wanted anything more than I want you.” He pulled me inside and shut the door, never once letting me free. My hand found its way to his unyielding cheek, caressing it with my fingertips. “I can't walk away from this, from you.” My other hand twined into his hair, bringing his face closer to mine. There was more I wanted to say but the words dissolved in my mouth.

It was better just to show what I wanted to say in the end. I tenderly drew his mouth to mine, tugging gently on his firm lips. He was cool and smooth and I was heat and sharpness; we were an eddy of contrasts, swirling and rushing together. He pressed me against the wall, savoring me, making my mind fuzzy.

All the sensations stopped when he drew away from me. My hand rested on his solid chest, seeking to undo the buttons of his shirt. His hand covered mine, stilling its course. “You're certain this is what you want? This life with me?” His thumb stroked across the knuckles of my hand, distracting me for a moment.

“Absolutely,” I breathed, entranced by his tenderness.

“You'll give up everything for me.” He lifted my chin so that I looked into his eyes. The glimmer of regret I saw in them cut me.

“I'm only giving up everything so that I get everything returned to me, tenfold. If you're not here to love me, I get nothing in return.”

He didn't answer me immediately. He studied my face, looking for any trace of doubt. I knew he would find none. He swept me up in his arms, so strong and sure, and kissed me until I was breathless. He gave me pause, resting his forehead against mine and ran his fingers through my damp hair.

“When I answered the door, you're skin was sparkling just like the snow. Aren't you supposed to be burned by the sun?”

He laughed. “It is an interesting affliction. No, we aren't supposed to be burned by the sun. That's only for movies and novels. Come, sit with me.” He walked across the room and sat down in one of his leather chairs and I curled myself close against his chest, settling into his lap. His fingers resumed their delicate play through my hair as I listened to his explanation.

“You know, I was never aware of that mythology until moving pictures became popular. When I was a young boy, vampires and werewolves were all creatures of the night. Things to be feared. The night then was fraught with more perils than you could have imagined. Most people wisely stayed inside after sunset, lest they would tempt the demons roaming in the shadows. For that reason, I kept to the dark for years. When I first saw this notion in a movie, I had to experiment. That particular myth came from the Volturi as I discovered during my second visit with them.”

“What else should I know?”

“Many things, my dear. We don't have to cover it all now, if you don't have time for it.”

“I have time. I don't think I could leave right now.”

He smiled and kissed me before he continued. I noticed he was very careful not to say the word vampire. I knew then, why he had written much of his story down on paper for me. So long as he never said the word to a human, he didn't condemn himself to death.

We lapsed into silence eventually, enjoying each other's nearness. I was content to stay here, just like this, with my head on his shoulder and his arms around me, forever. I wondered if we really did have eternity. I knew death was possible; the punishment for those who violated the laws the Volturi set was often death. He hadn't said how, though.

“You're not entirely indestructible, are you?” I whispered, tracing circles on the crisp cotton of his shirt.

“No.” He hesitated, taking my hand and lacing his fingers between mine. “We do have weaknesses.”

When he didn't continue, I pushed for more. He had been so forthcoming earlier. I disliked his new-found reserve. “How is it done?” He closed his eyes, appearing to stave off bitter memories. “I'm sorry if it pains you to tell me, but I feel I must know.”

“You do,” he said, slowly opening his eyes and looking at me. “There are two things that wound and one that ends it. I've seen them all and I hate thinking one day such a fate might befall you.”

I pressed myself closer to him. “I'll stay out of trouble but I still have to know, if only for my own protection.”

“We can be torn apart. It is very much like being hanged, drawn and quartered for treason in the England of my childhood. The only difference is, the parts can eventually be re-attached and the wounds will mend themselves.”

“Another... can tear you apart?” I carefully avoided saying the word vampire.

“It's the only thing in this world strong enough to do the job. However, should those parts burn, nothing can fix what is left. Only ashes remain.”

“So death comes from fire?” He nodded. “Dismemberment doesn't necessarily kill but causes pain. What's the second way to wound? You didn’t say what it is yet.” I watched his eyelids drift shut again, golden lashes brushing his cheeks.

“Death of a mate.” His voice was so toneless and blank it scared me. Sensing my fear, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead before he continued. “You remember how I said we feel more intensely than the rest of the world?”

“Yes.”

“Grief, to us, is decimating. When a mate dies, our own death is more than welcome. I've seen one become a slave because of this.”

I understood when he had said to me last night that the Volturi would use me to hurt him. They could easily kill me to keep him as their pawn. I made him stronger but I also weakened him. 

Sensing my concern, he leaned his head down to rest on top of mine, comforting me. “Don't worry. I'll do what I can to make sure you are safe. Do you still have the journal?”

“Yes. It's in my coat pocket. Why?”

“I don't want any evidence. They'll look for any reason to bring me back to Volterra.” He slipped out from underneath me, letting me settle into the space he vacated. His sudden departure was so jarring, it was a physical ache within me. Finding the slim volume in my pocket, he tore out the several pages covered in his fine handwriting, as well as several blank pages, and ripped them into miniscule pieces. Placing the bits into a ceramic bowl on the desk, he carried them into the kitchen.

Curious, I rose and followed him. He pulled a small, shiny object from his pocket and dumped the small pile of paper into the kitchen sink. He flicked open the lid of the object he held in his hands. It was a lighter.

“Here,” I put a restraining hand on his arm. “Let me do it.”

He relented and passed me the lighter. I touched the flame to the paper in the sink, watching the tiny pieces curl and blacken. In a short time, the only thing left in the sink was smoldering ash. He reached around me and turned on the faucet. The water swirled around the drain, taking with it all evidence of his admissions to me. Though the physicality of them were gone, the words still remained with me, written on my heart. I handed back his lighter.

“No, you should keep it. I have another one.”

I looked up at him, head tilted off to the side slightly. “Why do you have a lighter anyway, let alone two?”

“I value life, but I'm also not afraid to protect myself should the need arise. I'd like you to have one. I'll have to leave and make some arrangements for us. We'll need to leave here soon.”

“When?” I wasn't sure what concerned me most, whether it was his leaving me alone or us leaving together.

“I'll be leaving tomorrow to settle our travel plans and organize a safe place for us to stay. I should be back Tuesday evening and we'll leave Wednesday. Someone will pack the rest of our things later.”

The thought of him leaving made me feel sick. I had to be near him. We couldn't be separated. “I'll go with you.” Even though it was a weak attempt, it was still a demand.

His expression of careful thoughtfulness, told me he was debating my plea. I knew he could stand being away from me, he had endured separation from me earlier, and I silently wondered how he had done it when he first started leaving notes and flowers for me.

“No, it's best if you stay here. It's difficult for mates to be apart from each other.”

“But I'll live, right?” I sounded optimistic but I didn't even feel remotely hopeful. 

He didn't say anything but just studied me intensely, as if committing every detail of me to his faultless memory. I needed to give him more memories.

Surprised by my own ferocity, I seized his face in my hands and kissed him roughly. There was no tenderness or languor in our lips this time. In a rush of movement, I found myself on the counter top wrapping my legs around his body, drawing him closer. My fingers found the buttons on his shirt again and moved swiftly to undo them.

He was kissing down my neck with a hunger equal to my own. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I pulled on his open shirt and leaned back, bumping my head on a cabinet. The bump knocked sense into him rather than me and he stopped, taking his lips from my exposed collarbone.

Wordlessly, he helped me down from the counter. As he re-buttoned his shirt and I saw the mark of his sire on his neck. Soon, I'd have a similar mark too. His eyes never left me though, as I made my way back into the living room, straightening my clothes as I went. They were very dark, no longer amber or brown, but black.

“Your eyes are black. Why is that?”

For a second, he looked embarrassed. “It's from hunger,” he said simply. “You know how to say goodbye quite well.”

I smiled smugly. “I would much rather say hello, which I do much better, by the way.” He helped me into my coat and walked me to the door. I gave him a parting kiss, even though I ached to leave him. “Do me a favor, please.”

“Anything.”

“Don't ever tell me goodbye.”

His answering smile was my promise. I hoped it was enough to get me through the days of separation. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A touch of violence that some readers may find graphic or disturbing occurs in this chapter.

Monday dawned cold and gray. I knew without looking that his car was gone and I tried to make myself cheerier by thinking his absence was for our good. He was preparing for our future and that should make me unreasonably happy but his absence outweighed everything else.

I called in sick. There was no way I could function at work like this. I stayed in bed most of the morning, lethargic and moody. Sleep had been difficult the night before and was even more elusive during the bleak daylight hours.

Eventually, I made a few halfhearted attempts at packing what I thought I'd need. I had little idea what the future version of me would require or where we were even going. Carlisle hadn't mentioned much about the transformation process, other than it was the most painful experience he had ever had.

I wondered if his present self resembled his human self of all those centuries ago. I gathered he was similar, but I doubted he was a carbon copy. Would I be able to see myself when I looked again in the mirror or would I see a stranger staring back at me? Could I remember what made me me?

Taking the duffel bag I had filled primarily with clothes, I emptied its contents on my bed. Clothes were inessential. I could get more clothes later. I needed things that would remind me of who I had been, to keep a small spark of the old me alive within the remodeled body. I took my most favorite and dog-eared books, quirky knickknacks I had picked up through my limited travels, photo albums and even some of my favorite perfumes, the ones that conjured memories of home.

The thought of home struck a chord in me. I hadn't thought of how my change would affect those I loved. I would have to leave them behind forever. I desperately wanted to say goodbye but how could I, without them thinking I had done the worst? I spent most of the night writing and re-writing my thoughts on paper. As I dumped another handful of crumpled paper in the bedroom wastebasket, I knew it was impossible to say what I wanted. But I kept trying until exhaustion stilled my hand and I surrendered to sleep.

By the next morning, I found the longing for him wasn't as debilitating but still very present. I could function but I thought about him frequently. I called in sick to work again. Tomorrow I wouldn't have to worry about that bland, lifeless place anymore.

It was a lovely winter day, clear and cold. I took a brief walk through the nearby park, enjoying the sun on my face. I didn't know when I would enjoy the sun again. I made a circuit through the park and made my way back to my apartment. Though it was sunny, the air was still quite chilly and my fingers and nose stung from it. I walked a little faster, carefully avoiding the leftover snow piles from a few days ago. I was nearly back, when a black car with dark tinted windows drove by me. I didn't recognize the car which wasn't all that surprising since many cars traveled through this area. What gave me pause was how deeply tinted the windows were, so dark you could see a faint outline of the driver but not distinguish his features. I shivered and continued on my way.

Rounding the curve in the sidewalk leading to my building, there was the same car that had passed me moments ago, backed into a parking space so the front faced the last cluster of doors, one of which was mine. I couldn't tell if there was a driver in the car or not. I hurried to my door a little panicked. I didn't know why the car had me on edge.

Once inside, I calmed considerably. I finished packing, deciding to take a second bag containing the clothes I tossed out of the other bag last night. I went through the motions of cleaning but my heart wasn't in it. Finding nothing else to do, I grabbed a book out of my bag and sprawled across my bed. Every so often, my eyes were diverted from the page by a sparkling drop of meltwater dripping from the roof. Content, I put my book away and sat contemplating the shimmering droplets as one by one they formed, swelled into existence and were pulled by gravity to the ground below, shimmering all the while. I wondered how those same drops looked to Carlisle. He had said his vision was much sharper than a human's. I bet he could see the reflections those drops held, when I could only see the dim shadow inside.

By late afternoon, my excitement replaced the calm of earlier. Soon he would return and we would disappear into the night together. I slipped from the bed, deciding to try to clean once again. Passing by the window, I glanced into the parking lot. The car with the dark windows was still there. I stopped and stared at the car wide eyed with a sudden knowledge. Though I couldn't see him clearly, I knew the driver was still in the car, waiting for the sun holding him hostage to set. He had come for me.

Rushing from the room with my thoughts scrambling, I tried to find something to save myself. The sun would set in forty-five minutes. If I left, whoever was in the car would follow me. If today was my last day, I'd rather it be in the place I thought of as my home and not on the highway.

Fire was the only thing that could save me. I found the lighter Carlisle had given me last night in my coat pocket. Searching every room, I gathered together anything flammable and put them next to my most flammable appliance, the gas stove. It was an ill-formed plan, shaped out of intense fear. This wasn't how I imagined my life would end at all, in a burst of flame.

As the clock ticked, the sun sunk lower on the horizon. My heart was louder than the movement of the clock's hands. I gripped the lighter tightly in my hand. Thankfully, it was small enough it didn't stick out, disguised cleverly inside my fist. I tried to swallow and found my mouth dry.

Tick. Beat. Ragged exhale. Tick. Beat. Ragged exhale. And so the pattern went unbroken, as the last rosy orange rays of the sun dimmed and I waited for Death parked in the car outside. Clock. Heart. Breath.

I was so distracted by the sounds of my heartbeats ringing through my ears that I didn't hear the locks tearing free from the doorjamb at first. He was in front of me before I could process the sound. The tall vampire in front me didn't look exceptionally menacing. Dressed in a nylon jogging suit, he looked like a friendly visitor calling on me after a late afternoon jog. Only the color of his eyes gave away what he really was and I doubted anyone saw that before he entered my apartment.

I hadn't been able to see how my hasty plan worked until I actually set it into motion. As the unknown vampire approached, I backed myself closer to the stove and its collection of liquid filled bottles. I raised my free hand higher like I was attempting to keep him away from me, keeping my fist at waist height.

His hand was on my neck, squeezing hard enough I saw black spot swimming in front of me. “You're making this too easy, sweetheart. Aren't you even going to beg for me?”

The edge of his open jacket brushed my fist. My plan was coming together so well, with one notable exception. I wasn't getting out alive. I'd rather burn then have this vampire drain me.

“I don't beg.” My voice was strong and unwavering as I flicked the lighter's wheel and touched its flame to his jacket. Nylon was a marvelous fabric, melting quickly as the flames spread across his jacket. I kept the lighter close to the melting fabric, ignorant to the molten drips falling on my hand.

He noticed instantly and shoved me hard against the stove, the impact toppling and breaking some of the bottles. “Bitch,” he hissed. He was frantically trying to rid himself of the jacket but it was too late; the flames had spread to the slower burning cotton underneath.

At least he had saved me some effort. He pulled away from me, allowing me the time to light the burners on the stove and ignite the flammable liquids spilled across the surface. I snatched up one of the unbroken bottles, a nearly full bottle of cheap vodka someone had given me ages ago, and broke it against the nearby counter top. Successfully showering the alcohol around me, I touched the lighter to the mess. Everything was in flame.

Heat and heavy smoke filled the room, eliciting a wail from the smoke detector. I couldn't see the vampire anymore. I hoped I burned him. It would make my death seem in vain if he hadn't burned too.

Without knowing how it happened, the heat was replaced by cold, fresh air. I had the odd sensation that I was a snowflake, drifting casually toward the white, soft world below. Perhaps I had been able to reach the balcony door before I went up in flames. Then the world went black before I touched the ground. I saw no more.


	8. Chapter 8

I was burning, hours and hours after I had started the fire. I felt the flames coursing through my body, tasted the bitterness of them on my tongue. My hearing was the only sense free from the flames.

A voice reached me through the black flames, calm and constant like waves breaking on the shore. The words were muddled and beyond my comprehension; the voice sounded familiar but I couldn't place it. My memories were consumed in flames. 

“I'm so sorry. I wish we had more time together before I changed you. I would have prepared you for this. I should never have left you alone. You almost didn't make it.”

I wanted to comfort the voice but I couldn't move. The flames held me in place. The fire crept ever closer to my heart. It was almost over. I was surrendering to the fire.

“You don't know how brave you are, how strong you are. In all my years, I've never met someone like you. I'll never tell you goodbye.”

There were more words but I couldn't hear them. My heart was beating too loudly, too swiftly, to discern the voice above my own body's din. I was ready to go. In one convulsive shudder my heart failed, forever stilled by flames I couldn't see.

Where there should have been silence, I heard a multitude of sounds. A rustle of fabric, the sound of fingers running through hair and wind. These noises should have been unnoticeable but were wildly amplified.

A hand touched mine. I recoiled from the intensity of the contact, eyes flying open to seek out who had touched me. The clarity of the room startled me. Sharp, clear and vibrant, my eyes took in every detail, even the smallest brush strokes on the generic painting hanging on the wall. Though I couldn't fully remember what it was like to see before, I knew somehow my sight was different now.

“Shh, don't be frightened. Everything's all right. Do you remember me?” The familiar voice called out from behind me. The tone suggested a whisper but to me it sounded much louder.

Turning my head, I caught sight of the speaker. I could pick out three distinct shades of blond in his hair even though he was on the opposite side of the room. His features reminded me of some classical statue, symmetrical and smooth, but there were lines of emotion and some blemishes rendering him just shy of perfection. And I loved him.

I loved him and I couldn't remember why. I closed my eyes, searching through fuzzy memories for his identity when a distinct odor enticed my nose. Green and fresh, I had smelled the scent before. Through the murky haze in my mind, some random flashes of my past emerged. A florist shop, warm and earthy scented, and a tiny woman whose eyes sparkled with mirth. A rose, white with red tinted edges resting against a field of reflected blue.

Opening my eyes, I saw my love holding a rose matching the one in my memory. I went to him, faster than my body remembered how to move. It was peculiar, doing things I felt I couldn't and succeeding nonetheless. 

“Does this help?”

“Yes.” Even the sound of my voice wasn't how I felt it should be but there it was, clear and tinkling like ice covered branches in a gentle breeze. Not strange but not familiar either.

“Your face, I knew you before. I love you but I can't remember why.”

He looked sad. I disappointed him. “I've heard of this happening. Sometimes the transformation robs human memories from the mind.” He twirled the rose absently between his fingers, indifferent to the large thorns remaining on the stem.

I watched his movements, mesmerized. The thorns didn't hurt him. The longer I stared at the stem, I noticed the thorns eventually broke away, disintegrating under his touch. They couldn't hurt him because only two things could hurt him physically: being torn apart or set on fire, and a third would injure him more than death itself. The loss of a mate.

More memories flooded my mind. Me curled up against his chest, listening as he talked. Pieces of paper burning. A kitchen counter and his cool lips against my heated collarbone. Dark eyes.

The more I concentrated, the more came back. They were dim, like watching a movie reflected in a window, but they were there. The stem of the rose stopped moving. He was watching me.

“What is it?”

“They're not gone.”

“What?”

“My memories. They're still there, just not very clear but it's enough. The more I focus, the more I recall. You're Carlisle Cullen, age twenty-three or three hundred seventy-eight. You worked for the Volturi. There are only two things that will hurt you, another vampire or fire. One thing will make you wish for death and that is the death of a mate. I am your mate. And we are vampires.” The words slipped effortlessly and swiftly from my mouth. He observed me quietly, staying rooted to the floor a few feet from me.

“What else can you recall?” He asked finally. “Do you remember the vampire who attacked you?”

“No. All I remember are red eyes and flames and fear. Everything else is black.”

He smiled weakly. “Perhaps it's best you don't remember. To say that what you went through was traumatic would be an understatement. Let's leave it for some other time. I should have taken you with me. I'm sorry.” The very memory of my last human moments troubled him. The stem had pulled apart in his hands, rips threatening the bloom. I put my hand on his, prying the rose from his hold. He winced and the rest of the stem broke away from the bloom. All that was left in my hand was a mass of woody green bits. The rest of the rose had fallen to the floor. I thought I was being gentle. The woody bits ground into a paste as I made a fist.

“It's all right. This is normal. It takes some time to re-learn how to touch things without breaking them.” He brushed my cheek with the tips of his fingers. They weren't cool anymore. “How do you feel otherwise?”

“Like I don't fit inside of myself. I'm doing everything too fast, too hard and too much. It's not like me at all and yet it is, but I can't remember me very well. My mouth and throat are so unbelievably dry.”

“Well, that I can help with. The rest will come in time and I'll be here to help you.” He took my hand and led me out of the door.

We were staying in some kind of rental cabin. There were a few others, along with ours, clustered around a small gravel cul-de-sac, a snow frosted forest at their backs. They were vacant this time of year. Beyond that, I had no idea where exactly we were. Location didn't matter so much; as long as he was with me, anywhere was home.

A trail branched off of the gravel driveway leading away from the cabins. We followed it at a slow pace, a leisurely stroll for a human I assumed, for a while. We had come four hundred and thirty-two steps before we stopped; I had been keeping count without really being conscious of doing it.

Carlisle turned to me with a serious face. He was not my lover now. He was my teacher, my guide. He would do anything to help make this transition as easy as possible for me.

“We are predators and we have been gifted as such. That's why you can see and hear so clearly. But you also have a more perceptive sense of smell. Every creature has a different scent, including us.” 

He pulled me close to him and I breathed in deeply. At first, I noticed only the smells of soap and laundry detergent, but then _his_ scent overpowered everything else. It was hard to describe but it was somehow _him_. I pressed my nose closer to the hollow of his neck, familiarizing myself with this new skill. 

When I had gotten myself acquainted with his scent, he stepped away from me slightly but still kept hold of my upper arms. “That's how you'll find your prey as well. Humans will be the most appealing to you right now. I haven't known many newborns but the ones that I have, go mad at the smell of human blood. We'll have to stay away from people for awhile. Now that you know how to find me, let's go for a run. It will help you adjust to your new skin.”

He took off running, not following the trail, heedless to the snow and the dense underbrush. I pursued and eventually overtook him. It was very odd, running so fast and never having to stop to catch my breath. Some part of my brain was completely in control of maneuvering me around obstacles while the rest of me was occupied by other thoughts. I stopped when I crested a ridge, waiting for him to find me. He was right; I did feel more settled in myself.

Soon after he caught up to me, he taught me how to approach my prey, in this case it was a small herd of deer. I tried to focus on his words but the unbearable dryness in my throat took over nearly every thought. I found myself wiping away something like saliva gathering at the corner of my mouth. He let go of my arm, signaling it was time for me to feed.

I gave myself over to instinct, feeding voraciously on several deer before I returned to his side. I felt full but the insatiable dryness still lingered in the back of my throat. I still craved, greedily wanting more. I still felt foreign in my new body yet I was growing to accept this new power I felt flowing through me.

There were no more animals around us. My frenzy scared the survivors miles away. There was one object of prey nearby. My gaze went to him. His eyes were dark. Another craving, another need, clawed at the back of my throat, seeking release. I surrendered to its will. And so did he.


	9. Chapter 9

We moved frequently after my first week in the cabin, never staying more than a month in most places. I paid little attention to what state or town we were in; it didn't matter. We were trying to stay a few steps ahead of the Volturi. Carlisle never said it but I knew they would find us one day, no matter how many times we moved.

To supplement our funds, Carlisle took jobs as a day laborer, accepting pay under the table so as not to leave a paper trail. We paid cash for everything and gained fake documents, often through the same channels Carlisle gained employment, after every move. It was enough, so far, to keep away whomever the Volturi sent after us.

Eventually I was able to be near humans. He stayed by my side, knowing me so well that he sensed the exact moment when the heady, rich, rusty perfume would overtake me. Though I wasn't able to be alone with humans, I was glad to have some contact. Being around them helped piece together the old me with the new me. I finally fit inside myself, something I hadn't even done well as a human, I realized. 

My old memories resurfaced, though never to any substantial clarity, providing some comfort to me when Carlisle was away. He filled in my last memories of life, hesitantly at first, but I insisted he continue. He arrived just as the smoke and the heat had overpowered me. Breaking through the balcony door, he pulled me from the fire, risking his own destruction, but not before I had sustained some serious injuries. He changed me during our mad escape from the fire. Even though months had passed, I still saw the raw panic in his eyes, conjured there by his perfect memory of my almost loss. 

To most of the world, we were dead. The Volturi wouldn't be fooled for long. When their henchman failed to return, I knew they would look. Carlisle said they had a skilled tracker among their ranks. Little escaped his attention and we would be found. We were on borrowed time but we still had hope.

By summer's end, we had traveled across the country to Northern California. The cool coastal air was a welcome reprieve from arid Nevada, even though we hadn't stayed in the desert canyons long. I never realized I missed green and gray so much. It was a nice place for our story to end. 

It wasn't wholly unexpected when they arrived one evening in late September, just as a misty twilight settled around our cabin. Carlisle heard them long before they knocked on the door. My senses were now acute enough to determine we had two visitors.

He crossed the room and pressed a hurried kiss to my lips. “Whatever happens, remember that I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.” I gripped his hand for a few moments before relinquishing it reluctantly. When the time came, could I let this eternity go and travel into the next? Confronted, finally, with a choice I hoped we would avoid, I wasn't certain I was strong enough to choose. Death waited on either side. 

The knock sounded lightly, almost hesitantly, from the door. With only a brief pause, Carlisle opened it. I admired his strength. Perhaps hope had not fled his soul as quickly as it vacated mine. Whatever bit of hope he held onto, I prayed it was enough to save us.

“Demetri how nice to see you again.” The forced pleasantry in Carlisle's voice made me want to rip our visitor to shreds. I stood behind Carlisle, observing our guest with a mix of disdain and fear. His gleaming red eyes recalled another red-eyed visitor from my shadowed memory. To me, red eyes heralded certain death. A death I should have been prepared for but I suddenly found my plans still lacking.

Our visitor smiled, the venom coating his teeth shone in the dimming light. I felt impossibly sick, apprehension churning inside.

“Yes, it is nice seeing you one last time. What a lovely mate you've got?” He made a move to touch my face. 

I growled and stepped away from him, anger overturning fear.

“Are you sure she's worth all this trouble? Aro would most graciously accept you back, forgive your sudden disappearance. He might even find a special place for your – beloved – if you ask. I take it that you did not know she was gifted.” He mused smugly for a second before continuing. “Yes, very hard to track this one. I've been following you, not her, since your lucky escape. She was much easier to find when her heart was still beating.”

“How is she gifted?”

“It doesn't matter now, Carlisle. Marcus, they are ready.”

I clutched Carlisle's sleeve, nearly tearing the fabric. The end was so close. “No. Please don't. We haven't done anything wrong.” My eyes stung but no tears would ever fall.

Another man emerged through the open door as Demetri retreated slightly. This man moved so gracefully he didn't make a sound. His features were entirely contradictory. The quality of his skin and eyes gave the impression of someone with great age. But unlike an old human, he was not stooped with the weight of his years. Everything else about him suggested youth and vigor.

“Demetri, leave us.”

Carlisle made an effort to speak but was silenced with a motion from the paradoxical man. No one spoke for several long minutes. I pressed myself tightly against my mate's back.

“He should be out of hearing range now.” The man, dressed in a strange black cloak, pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Forgive Demetri. He is only acting on orders. We haven't much time. He will be watching us from the trees.”

A keening wail escaped my lips before I could choke it back.

“Don't fret, my lovely. Today is my day to die, not yours.”

“What do you mean, Marcus?” Carlisle was as puzzled as me.

Marcus smiled slowly. “Certain events have made Volterra, unsafe, if you will. As a result, I haven't been in Aro or Chelsea's company for some time.”

This news must have meant something important to my love as he relaxed his posture. 

“I offered to take Demetri and find you for Aro. I suggested my presence would make you more – amiable – to his request.”

“What request?”

“To join the ranks of the Volturi Guard, permanently. But that's not what I wish to discuss at the moment. I have a favor to ask you.”

I grasped my love's shoulders and felt his body stiffen with a new emotion. Suspicion. 

“And that would be?”

“I seek your mercy.”

“What for?”

“You are a kind man. A man who stands by his promises and duties. We are not so dissimilar, you and I.”

“I beg to differ.”

Marcus' demeanor changed and he spoke sharply. “Have you not experienced the love of a mate? Have you not also experienced the fear, the sheer terror, of a mate's threatened departure? Never been isolated and alone for years at a time?”

“Yes, I've experienced it all.”

“Then you have some idea about the state of my mind. I've suffered for millennia and I want an end. I never wanted this life for myself. I am tired of being a pawn in someone else's game.”

“Why come to me? I can't help you.”

“But you can. I can see the lengths you'll go to save her. Had she died that night, you would have followed her. You must have some sympathy. I never was allowed to follow my heart.”

An understanding passed between them. There was a long silence before Carlisle spoke again.

“Will they follow us?”

“They have bigger issues to attend to at the moment. As soon as you learn to use your mate's skill, you will become invisible. The longer you delay, the more suspicious they will become. Demetri must bear witness. Should he ever cross paths with Aro again he must see.”

Carlisle produced his lighter from his pocket. He shook hands with Marcus. There was a finality in the gesture that I found disturbing. 

 

“Forgive me.” With a horrific tearing sound, Marcus' arm severed from his body, dripping venom on the floor. In the blink of an eye, it was in flames along with the black cloak he wore.

I stood staring at the terrible scene in front of me. This couldn't be happening. My love's arms were guiding me away from the flames. He pushed me through the trapdoor leading to a crawlspace under the cabin. Once we were safe underneath, his arms went around me and I crumbled into tearless sobs.

Above the roar and hiss of the flames, there was a sound. It was one of swelling happiness. I found it unnerving and strangely comforting.

“Didyme.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

 “What have you done?” As soon as the flames expired, we left the crawlspace. I turned on my mate, my love, feeling I did not know him. After all these months, the man I had come to know would never willing take someone's life. I was angry, confused.

“I did what I would have wanted done to me had I lost a mate.” He took in a long breath, exhaling slowly. “Marcus lost a mate countless years ago. She was murdered and he never was able to avenge her death. I did not know him at the time of her death. From what I've heard, he's just a shell of what he used to be. I've only known him to be disinterested and cold.”

“Didyme? The name he called out with his last breath?”

“Yes, that was her name. She was his soul. I suspect the only reason Marcus survived this long was Aro's influence. I never saw what interest Aro had in him. Surely, if Aro was any sort of friend he would have let Marcus go and put an end to his suffering.”

“From what you've told me, Aro is a friend to no one.”

“No, he's not. I'm just beginning to see what sort of creature he truly is. Aro has always been obsessed with power and control, some of the most dangerous things in this world. He will go to lengths to protect what he thinks is his.”

He extended his hand into the empty space between us. “I'm sorry if I've frightened you with my actions but we must leave. I don't know if Demetri will be any danger to us.” 

Though I was still horrified by my mate's actions, even if he had been following through with Marcus' wishes, I took his hand in mine. I still loved him beyond reason and I would follow him anywhere.

We set off at a blistering run, trees blurring as we raced passed. We hadn't gone very far before Carlisle stopped abruptly.

“I can still smell his scent.” Seeing the recently disturbed earth beneath a nearby tree, he examined the spot. Pushing aside the decaying leaf litter, he uncovered a plastic baggie containing an envelope. I went to Carlisle's side as he opened the contents. The lingering perfume of lemon, rosemary and parchment filled the air. In a matter of seconds, the letter was read and reduced to ashes. 

“What did he say?”

“We don't have to worry about Demetri. Apparently, he isn't returning to Volterra and only passed witness in case he should ever meet Aro again.”

“How would Aro know what did or didn't happen? Can't Demetri lie?”

A sad smile crossed my love's lips. “No, he can't. Aro can read your thoughts through a single touch. That's why Marcus sent Demetri away. I suspect Demetri will re-visit the cabin to confirm our deaths. He saw enough for Aro to believe him. Marcus seems certain they won't be crossing paths any time soon.”

I recalled Demetri's behavior and it didn't match up with what Carlisle was telling me. “So that was all just an act to fool Aro? I don't think it's enough. Nothing will ever be enough to escape from him. The same trick isn't going to fool him twice.”

Carlisle cupped the side of my face in his hand, soothingly stroking my cheekbone. The sensation calmed my fears and made my body hum with unexpected contentment. “Marcus thought it was enough.”

“And you trust the word of a dead man?”

“Not entirely, but in this instance he has his reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Demetri was not lying when he said you were gifted. Both he and Marcus seemed to think you might be a shield.”

“A shield? What good can that be?”

“I'm not certain myself. I know Aro employs his own personal shield, but beyond that I'm not sure how it works. Marcus has left us the last known whereabouts of a coven that can help us and keep us out of the war.”

“There's a war too?”

Carlisle nodded. “Marcus' letter makes me think the Volturi will not be victorious and it's best if we stay out of the way for awhile. The best place to do this is with the coven he left directions for us to find.”

I was silent for awhile and stepped away from my mate's touch. I had never met others of my kind who hadn't been trying to kill me or, at least, had given that impression. I wasn't exactly thrilled but I was more than a little curious. Disappearing from the Volturi into another coven sounded counter-intuitive. What was so special about them anyway? 

“What do you know about this coven?”

“I've heard of a few of the members, but only in passing. Eleazar was once a member of the Volturi. He was graciously excused from service by Aro shortly before I first left them. He had some talent for picking up other vampire's gifts.” 

There was a sort of hesitation in his voice as he answered me and I realized he was waiting, waiting for me to make a decision to join this new coven or stay on our own. If I chose not to join this coven, he would respect it and not force me.

“So where is this coven then?” I walked toward him. It still seemed to me like we were walking into the bear's den, especially since one of the coven members was a former Volturi. I was new to this world and I hadn't learned to judge a vampire's intent. My mate had all the experience. His hand linked with mine. The choice was made.

“Denali.”

“I've never been to Alaska. It's rather convenient since we are on the West Coast. I wonder if they've been pushing us toward them all along.”

My love smiled at me. “I doubt it. Certain things are meant to have a particular outcome.”

“I suppose they do.” I pulled him closer and drew his lips to mine.

Moments later, he reluctantly withdrew from my tangling arms and lips and took the first step of our journey north.

We traveled under the cover of the clouds and the trees, the human population spreading thinner and thinner the further north we went, seldom needing to move in the dark of night. I had a faint desire to slow our progression and enjoy the land around us, but the need for the, purported, safety of the coven kept me moving forward. There would be time later to do more serious travels.

As we came closer to Denali, I could detect no less than seven vampire scents. Two scent trails were very faint; indicating a considerable amount of time had passed since those particular trails were made. It did nothing to calm the panic building within me. I hadn't expected the coven to be so large. Carlisle had said large covens were very unusual.

“It's all right. It's just their hunting trails. We'll stop and make our presence known so we can meet them outside their home. You'll feel more at ease that way.” My mate gave my hand a gentle squeeze before we resumed our journey. 

We were walking now, following a well-formed trail through the trees. The ground was hard, already frozen. It should be cold but I didn't feel it. Our pace slowed with each step. Carlisle was as hesitant as me or maybe his pace was for me, I didn't know. The space between the trees increased and soon we approached the inevitable clearing.

I had expected the clearing. I had even somewhat expected the rambling log house near the center of the clearing. I hadn't expected the coven waiting for us at the edge of the clearing, downwind so their scents didn't carry. An attractive female vampire approached cautiously as I slipped behind Carlisle.

“Welcome. We've been expecting you.” Her voice was friendly and gentle but I was still wary. How could they know we were coming?

“Marcus sent us. We seek your help and guidance.”

“We know.” The hint of amusement in her voice made me step away from my mate to get a better look at her. Sensing my scrutiny, she stepped closer. A placid smile spread across her pale lips. The smile drew my attention upward toward her eyes. Her golden eyes.

Two more steps closer and she extended her hand in greeting. I took her hand without hesitation, returning her greeting. We were safe here.

The rest of the coven moved closer and were introduced. From the opposite side of the clearing, near the house, I saw two figures rapidly approaching. Instinctively, I tensed. One was short with dark hair, while the other one was tall with fairer hair, complementary opposites. The coven leader, Tanya, also sensed this couples' approach and turned to meet them.

“This is how we knew you were coming today. Alice, Jasper, this is Carlisle Cullen and his mate.”

They stopped a short distance from me, obviously giving me space to familiarize myself with them. The short one, Alice, cocked her head to the side, observing me. Her mate stood by her side, their hands linked, adopting a frozen stance. He was also watching me but with less inquisitiveness than his little shadow.

“Oh yes, you're absolutely perfect. With a little help, even I won't be able to find you without some help.”

I must have had a strange look on my face because Tanya laughed lightly. “You'll have to forgive Alice. She can see the future and apparently yours looks wonderful. That's why you came, to wait out this storm and understand your gift.”

“The war with the Volturi, who started it and why did Marcus think they wouldn't survive?” My mate's question drew my attention away from the odd couple for the time being.

“That's quite a long story. Let's go inside.” She led the way with us and the rest of her coven following. 

The interior of the cabin was spacious, equipped with large windows and a fireplace on opposite sides of the main room. It would be unfair to compare it to the small, barely furnished dwellings we had called home on our journey cross country. We settled together on a plush loveseat nearest the fire. The others spread across the room, trying to give me space, acting disinterested but failing. I wondered if I was normal. If this happened to every new vampire, this hesitancy to be amongst a large group, or if it was just me. I knew I was safe but I was reluctant to let my guard down.

“The Romanians are behind it.” Tanya started the tale abruptly and soon I was not the center of attention. I relaxed into Carlisle's side.

“During their travels, they discovered an interesting vampire in South America. This vampire traveled on the fringe of settlements surrounding the rainforest and other remote areas, seducing the local women.” Here, she smirked slightly.

“And you would know about seducing locals, sister dear.” Kate, the striking blonde introduced to me earlier, commented from her spot on the fur rug somewhere behind our loveseat.

“As would you, sister. This vampire, Joham, is capable of siring children. They met one of his offspring in Brazil. Stefan and Vladimir were struck by the girl's resemblance to a human. Had Joham not told them what she was, they would never have guessed.”

“What is she exactly?” Carlisle leaned forward in his seat, very interested in Tanya's story.

“A mix of vampire and human. A blend the Romanians saw useful to them. You see, Joham acted as some sort of mad scientist, using himself and his offspring in his experiments. By the time he had encountered the Romanians, Joham had already perfected his breeding abilities and had moved onto human/hybrid and vampire/hybrid interactions.”

“You mean he was conducting breeding experiments on his children?” I felt slightly sick when my mate asked the question. Was it possible for a vampire to vomit?

“That and more. His 'research' yielded favorable results for the Romanians. Joham's children were mainly girls, girls with beating hearts and a heady bouquet to their blood. A siren's song to a vampire. The girls' blood proved toxic to any vampire seeking to feed and an idea was born.”

There room was silent. I concentrated my attention on the flickering fire. I had a vague memory from my human years of elections and trials and senate hearings. Power warped human intent and I could see power exerted even more force over a vampire mind as well. Even though I knew little of the Romanians, they were but distant players on a faraway stage to me, I got the sense they were no better than the Volturi. Vladimir and Stefan, the Romanians, I gathered, must have been an age old rival to the Volturi.

“When did this happen?” My mate broke the temporary silence.

“I'm not sure when this little plan was hatched but it was implemented shortly after you disappeared. The girls were invited by Heidi and she unwittingly served them to the Volturi thinking they were just a group of college tourists. Aro was able to save himself at the last minute, along with Alec, Felix and Demetri. Marcus was not in the feeding room nor were a few of the lesser members. Aro sent the survivors from the city. It was no longer safe for them there.”

“Then why was he so intent to find us?”

Tanya shrugged. “I suppose he wanted to build his empire again. Why was he after you anyway?” She looked pointedly at Carlisle.

“I used to put out feelers, if you will, for those that brought vampires out of folklore and into reality. I blend in well with humanity.”

“You're one of the ones he's reluctant to let go. I expect he's even less so inclined to let you go now. You see, he's still after the 'special' ones.”

“But I'm not special.”

“That maybe true but Aro's a desperate man and anyone will do. I'll bet he's wishing he had more vampires that intermingled with humans. Another reason we like to keep to ourselves.”

“How can you stay off Aro's radar?”

“We haven't always. But,” Tanya smiled slyly, “we've had a recent addition to the coven that helps us avoid Aro's attention.”

“Temporary addition.” The shadow sitting by one of the window interjected forcefully. Her mate, sitting by her side, wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her black hair. Looking at the pair, I sensed she was also uneasy around the others. I could understand. While I was quite sure the obviously unattached blonde bombshells making up this coven wouldn't steal a mate, there was no comfort in their beauty.

“Temporary, yes. I suspect the only reason Firefly and Scarecrow are here is because of you.”

I tensed as she focused her gaze in my direction. “Me?”

“Eleazar, I think it's time to explain how her shield works.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

“Come, my child.” 

I took Eleazar's proffered hand and he led me into the middle of the room. I tried to ignore the way everyone's gaze followed me. Whatever Eleazar thought my gift was, I was certain he grossly overestimated it. I could barely save my human self from a vampire. How could I, even as a vampire, save everyone in this coven? I was sure to be a disappointment but I would humor them and try.

“Close your eyes. It will help you.” With our hands still linked, I did as he commanded. “Now clear your mind of thoughts, mija.”

The gentle tones of his accented voice softened his incessant demands. It was difficult, slowing my thoughts that ran faster than light. “I can't.” My eyes flicked open, meeting his golden ones.

“Try again.”

An odd, foreign sense of calm washed over me. I obliged with the request, expecting similar results. This time though, I succeeded in stopping one thought and then another. Like a clock with one gear stuck, the rest soon followed suit. My mind was blank. All that registered were the faint hisses and pop of wood consumed by flame, and even that sounded so far away.

“What do you see?”

“A brick wall.” The flat, vacant voice answering him sounded like a stranger, but it was mine. 

“Anything else?”

I searched the vision appearing in my mind's eye. The wall nearly brushed the end of my nose. It was so tangible, I wanted to touch it, to feel the roughness of the bricks and mortar under my hand. I forced myself to look around more. Off to the sides, there were missing bricks. Gaps that allowed the cool, calming tide to surge in and surround me.

“There are holes in the wall.” My expressionless voice finally answered.

“Try to fix them.”

No sooner had the thought passed through my mind, then the gaps were patched and I forced the serene feelings back out of my space with an audible whoosh.

“Describe the wall now, mija.”

“It surrounds me and it's very close. It goes as high as I can see, possible beyond the second floor and maybe even deeper than the ground. The wall is solid now, but it's not dark on my side.”

“Make the walls transparent if you can.”

The wall faded away in my mind's eye. Before me was a softly muted vision of the room we were in, complete with a rapt audience. The hazy outlines of the bricks let me know the wall was not gone, just altered. 

“I can see everyone as they were.” The acknowledgment was tinted with a touch of amusement and not quite so monotone as earlier. I saw interest mirrored in the faces I saw around me and it startled me to an extent. This was not a vision of a memory. This was a vision of now.

“Good. See if can push the wall out to include your mate.” Eleazar's smile was encouraging.

I didn't need to look for my mate in my vision. I was drawn in his direction naturally. It was a simple task to push the ethereal walls around him and eventually everyone else in the room.

For the next week, I worked diligently with Eleazar, expanding the walls to include the cabin and some of the area around it. I was sorry I had thought him terribly mistaken about my gift. 

I also quickly discovered the other gifted vampires. Alice's gift wasn't much of a mystery. It was easy to understand how it worked. My gift severely interfered with what she saw. She saw only what those included behind my wall would do in the next few hours and nothing more. She frequently had to venture outside of my wall to see the future events that might affect us.

Jasper was the one whom calmed me during my first experiments with my wall. While his gift was mostly helpful, especially easing tensions among housemates not quite accustomed to staying in more than necessary, his gift was the one that I found most inconvenient. I sought solace in my mate's arms, and our bed, without the slightest provocation most days. I didn't need any additional assistance in that department. I found the odd tendrils of lust that often invaded my mind without my bidding very mortifying.

Though perhaps Kate's gift was the one that truly bothered me. She was likeable enough, but she had the nasty habit of using her gift to literally shock you into surprise. It was fun at first, but it soon lost its charm for me. She always tried to sneak up and stun Alice. It never worked.

After one such shocking occurrence with Kate, I began to wonder if I couldn't establish a second wall. One that would protect me from personal interferences. I practiced discreetly, visualizing a thin, curtain-like partition around myself. It was a bit more difficult manipulating this second shield than the first. If I focused too much on the second shield, the first often would waiver and start to crumble. I didn't dare test it until I was able to control both walls effectively.

The test came one quiet afternoon in the library. I kept myself amused there often, since many of the books I had read as a human I couldn't recall clearly. Carlisle joined me, perusing a book I knew he had recently read. I didn't need Alice's gift to figure he would distract me from my novel later.

I caught Kate's reflection in the window and shifted myself closer to my mate. I turned the page casually and placed my hand on his knee, feigning inattention. In a split second, Kate put her hand on my shoulder and pulled it away quickly, preparing to flee from my fury.

“Ouch!” Carlisle turned swiftly to look at an astonished Kate.

“But I didn't shock you.”

“You obviously did.”

“No, I didn't. I shocked your mate.”

“Then how did–" Carlisle broke off, looking at my smug smile with a hint of amusement.

“Personal shield.” I offered mildly.

“You didn't–"

“We aren't–"

“No and no.” I answered their choked off questions of concern. “I can maintain two shields at once. I haven't put anyone at risk. I only did it for some privacy.”

Kate looked mildly put out and Carlisle looked amazed at my revelation. I wanted to explain further but the front door opened. Alice and Jasper were returning from outside the shield. We all met in the main room, waiting to hear her news.

Alice's emotions were unreadable. I lowered my personal shield, allowing for Jasper's emotions to reach me. Concern and unease snaked around me, gripping and tugging me toward moderate panic. She hadn't even taken the time to set her mate's fears to rest.

“He'll be here soon.” She looked at me. “Lower your shield.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I imagined the shield works a bit like Occlumency does in Harry Potter and perhaps a disillusionment charm. The only difference is that this is a physical wall as well as a mental one. Should anyone wander toward the cabin, they won't see it or want to go near it.


	12. Chapter 12

The stunned silence following Alice's abrupt announcement was shattered by a bombardment of questions.

“Who is coming?”

“Are you crazy? Her shield is the only thing keeping us hidden!”

“Calm down!” Tanya made her presence known and quelled her patchwork coven. “Alice, I think you had better explain what you've seen in that wild little mind of yours.”

“Aro is coming.”

“Ay dios mios. And you want to lower the shield? You've gone mad.” Carmen pulled her mate closer. She hadn't spent much time in the company of the Volturi, but she heard many stories about them.

“He's perfectly harmless. The Romanians have what they desire. Aro has been rendered useless. Rather than killing him, they left him to suffer. He's seeking mercy.”

“And that's exactly what he'll get when he comes here.”

Alice placed her hand on her mate's shoulder. “No, not that sort of mercy. One of us has already dealt that sort.” Her gaze locked on Carlisle as she spoke and then returned to Jasper. “We're going to offer him a different sort of mercy. We won't kill him, like he expects. We will show him a new way to live.”

“Alice, honey, I don't think it'll work. He's lived off of humans for far too long.” 

With my secondary shield lowered, I felt Jasper's dread and despair roiling through the room as he addressed his mate. From the others I learned that Jasper was created as an instrument of war. Upon meeting Alice, and later the rest of the Denali coven, he had great difficulty maintaining the diet. He never spoke of his time before Alice, nor was there much mention of his adjustment period.

“I've seen it work.” She sounded very nonchalant, very assured of the future.

“It's not always how you see it.”

“I know.”

“It's cruel to make him suffer, Al. He's without hope and converting him to another diet won't help.”

“He's not without hope. He can see what I see through his gift.”

“Okay, let's just say your scheme works and Aro follows a new diet. How do we keep him from amassing an entourage again?” Tanya's clear voice cut through Alice and Jasper's conversation.

“He'll die otherwise. I've seen that too. Aro is a selfish man; he really doesn't want to die.”

Tanya's haughty face was shrouded with doubt. “You're risking a great deal for a coven that's not your own. I don't care what diet he follows. That's not the issue. I don't want him trying to make a go at being the ruling class again and poaching my coven members in order to do it.”

“Give it a week.” Alice acted like it was no big concern. I had trouble believing her words myself. I had spent the first moments of my new life on the run from Aro. This was much too simple of a solution.

“A week?” Tanya streaked across the room, catching Alice's insignificant frame by the shoulder. Jasper growled and clutched Tanya's throat in his hand, ready to rip it out should she threaten his beloved.

“A week and then you can make his funeral pyre, if you want.”

Tanya dropped her hand, pushing Alice away from her as she let go. Jasper didn't relinquish his grasp immediately. Tanya stepped back and Jasper released her. “I don't like this at all and you're going to stay here and babysit him. I want nothing to do with him.”

Alice flashed an enigmatic smile. “Of course.” She turned toward me. “You've dropped the shield?”

“Not yet. Give me a minute.” Closing my eyes, I visualized my transparent walls. I watched it crash, each brick disappearing before it hit the ground. I blinked my eyes open and met Alice's wide smile.

“Good. Let's wait outside. Shall we?”

I took Carlisle's hand in mine, following the others out the door. Déjà vu struck me. This was how we had met this coven. The last bit of sunlight faded from the sky as inky twilight swallowed the remaining horizon.

“Soon.” Alice's voice was ever hopeful as she stood wrapped in the arms of her mate, waiting for her vision and reality to coincide. 

The air filled with a low, electric whisper and an odd, shimmering light. Looking up, I let myself be momentarily mesmerized by the aerial spectacle.

“There,” Alice called out.

I snapped my attention away from the Aurora Borealis. Alice separated from her mate and approached the staggering figure emerging from the dark forest. Tanya took a step forward and then stopped. She clearly wasn't in the same frame of mind as she was when she met Carlisle and I.

As he drew closer to Alice, I saw the chalky skin and the tattered clothes. This insignificant scrap was supposedly the creature I had feared for slightly more than a year. I didn't fear him anymore as he clutched Alice's hand. I felt pity.

After a moment, he dropped to his knees, sinking into the snow. An anguished cry left his mouth, splitting the near quiet. Alice still gripped his hand, bending toward his prostrate form. The wounded cries stopped. In the eerie light, I saw some new emotion take hold of his features.

Tanya saw this change too and approached. The set of her face had altered. It was no longer tense with doubt and reluctance. I watched as she moved forward with measured steps and knelt down in the snow by the broken figure. Alice released Aro's hand and retreated a few steps back to her mate.

Everyone was still, watching the statues illuminated in the sickly greenish light from above. My new brain could never lose this memory. Were I still human, I doubted even this sight would succumb to time and age. Carlisle's hand tightened around mine and I looked up at him.

“Tanya has found her mate.”

“Didn't Aro already have a mate?”

Carlisle nodded. He said nothing further and I stared at the strange tableau in front of me. Tanya had taken up Aro's slack hand and held it reassuringly.

When my mate spoke next, his words caressed my ears.

“I've heard this before, but I always thought it more legend than anything. When a mate dies, a bond can be formed again. Supposedly, it isn't as intense as the first mate bond.”

“A second chance with a lesser love?” I felt my lips turn down. I couldn't imagine recovering from the loss of a mate. I remembered Marcus' pleas. He never found his second chance. Here was Aro, having lost his mate, his whole coven, settling for something less.

“No, it's not less, just different.”

I returned my gaze to my mate's face. “Is this promise of a second bond enough to keep going?”

Carlisle shook his head. “Not always. The vendetta to kill those who killed your mate is stronger. So is the want to join your first mate. Most don't chose this path, that's why I've always thought it was a legend until now.”

“Isn't this Tanya's first mate bond though?”

“I believe so.”

“So how will that work?”

“We'll have to wait and see.”

Realizing the need for privacy, the rest of the coven slipped away. Carlisle and I were the last to leave. As we walked solemnly back to the cabin, I thought about what I would do were I ever in Aro's situation. Distantly, a fuzzy memory surfaced, Carlisle's voice telling me he would chose hope rather than death. I wondered if he would still chose hope and for that matter, if I would chose death over hope.

By the end of the week, I was sure there was going to be a funeral pyre. At first, the newly bonded pair seemed well enough. They often sat together quietly, not speaking, just holding hands and leaning on each other. After the first hunt, things took a turn for the worse. Apparently, Tanya was feeling all the intensity of a first mate bond and Aro wasn't in the mood to rush things. They took their squabble to an isolated room.

Alice was sitting in the main room, flipping through a fashion magazine, a smug look on her face. Kate, concerned for her coven sister, tore the magazine out of the seer's hands.

“You said this would work.” Kate was ready to rip Alice apart.

“It's not the end of the week yet.”

Kate sprung toward her little victim, but Jasper intervened with a growl and a restraining arm. Alice remained seated, never even flinching. “You'll see, Kate. Or hear, perhaps.”

Some time later, the muted sounds of Aro and Tanya fighting altered into something more passionate. Aro was apparently a member of this coven and there would be no funeral pyre.

The following week, Alice and Jasper took their leave. The goodbyes were short and held little fanfare. It somehow suited them. 

I was the last to bid them farewell. Alice's arms encircled me, surprising me. She let go just as abruptly, taking up my right hand as she drew away from me. She slipped something into it.

“Something to get you started.” She flashed her enigmatic smile and dashed off with her mate. I watched their retreating figures, heading north of all places, before I finally looked at what she had placed in my hand. It was a phone and a slip of paper with a series of numbers written on it, a bank account I suspected. Below it she had written in her flamboyant hand, _think of it as a nest egg._

A week later, Alice had sent a few cryptic messages saying about how the weather in Europe looked lovely, meaning cloudy, and that the medical schools were very good, but perhaps a visit to Seattle would be prudent. My mate and I took her not so subtle hints and took our leave from Tanya's coven, promising to return sometime within the next century.

Excitement tingled and burned at my limbs, almost like the heat of transformation, as I gripped my mate's hand. We stood on the threshold of the cabin's door, ready to step out into a world tinted black and white by night, moonlight and snow.

“Ready?”

I nodded. “Forever is waiting for us. We better get started.”

Carlisle smiled and leaned down to kiss me quickly. Hand in hand we raced out into the night, black and white blurring into gray. 

Heading south, we didn't stop until dawn. Turning to face the east, we watched the world fill with color. It was the most spectacular sunrise I ever remembered. The pale winter light suffused the earth with ethereal color and hope. 

Our future unfolded before us and for the first time since my change, fear did not guide our steps. We could go anywhere and do anything. It was a heady thrill, but one that paled in comparison to the time spent side by side with the one I loved. Nothing gave me more satisfaction.

Many times, I would stop and reflect what led us down this path. Had I not wondered and had he not dared, our lives would have moved along without intersection, curving slowly away from each other until one of us was no more. Our curiosity brought us here, made the lifelines intersect, made my world swell with unimaginable color.

Our eternity looked wonderful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:The End? Seems I can't do romance without action. I will freely admit this was the strangest thing I ever wrote. It possibly is a shark-jumping story but sharks and tornadoes go together apparently, so why not a little shark jumping too. Well, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi there! For some of you, this is the first time you've read anything written by me. I hope you enjoyed the story so far. You probably have some questions. I'd love to answer them, but at this point in time, I can't. Feel free to ask though.  
> I call this story my 'art' piece. I'm experimenting in a style I fell in love with a long time ago in high school.Of course, I am borrowing some from Twilight as well. The creepy romance, you know, the things that should be creepy but you still find romantic anyway kind of stuff. And I've also borrowed the heady romance that leaves you breathless, thus making this story feel a little oxygen starved and blue. Or at least that's what I feel when I write this.


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